The Cavern
by da-angel729
Summary: She had carefully considered this advice, meditated on it, and had come to the conclusion that her feelings for John were genuine.


**Author's Note:** Written for the 2011 Teyla Thing-a-Thon at **teylafen** on LiveJournal with prompts of _John/Teyla_ and _improvised sleeping situations_. Also applied to the **11 in 11 Challenge** at **gate_women**on LiveJournal. As always, feedback and con crit appreciated!

**The Cavern**

The cavern was small, with barely enough room for her to stand up in, so Teyla had no idea how John was managing, but he seemed normal enough, easy and mostly relaxed, with just a hint of tension in his shoulders as they gathered firewood materials.

They were on Graniede, though John referred to it as PX6-096, because Teyla needed some roots for her Athosian medicinal recipes. Rodney had elected to stay behind, claiming the experiments he was running were at a critical point, but John had rolled his eyes and slanted an amused look at Teyla. She knew what he was thinking.

She'd been thinking the same thing.

Graniede was agricultural, and had very little of what Rodney required for his comfort. Ronon had been injured on their previous mission and was still in the infirmary, though Dr. Beckett had said he would be out in the next twenty-four hours. So it was just the two of them for this trip, and Teyla had to admit—but only to herself—that she was looking forward to spending some time alone with John.

She had woken up one morning, nearly a year and a half after arriving at Atlantis, and had shared breakfast with her team, as they usually did. John had made a joke, one she did not understand but he and Rodney had laughed for at least ten minutes.

His entire face had transformed, relaxing the worry and stress lines he carried around his eyes. And she'd been stunned by the sudden jolt of sexual awareness she'd felt at that moment.

In the last few months, Teyla had tried, with varying degrees of success, to get that look on John's face again. Their senses of humor were similar enough that she was successful more often than not, but sometimes one of her admittedly subtle jokes didn't register with him, and he would get that adorably confused look on his face.

Teyla was not a simpleton. She had known love before, had known lust before, and in fact had been involved with a young man from her people some years before. It had been sweet and they had been so young, and the man, Janieel, had left to become an interplanetary trader. She had found out from Halling about three years ago that the man was settled on Brane with a family. Teyla didn't often think of him, but when she and John were alone, he almost always entered her thoughts.

Because in spite of the fact that John was from another _galaxy_—and though she had been trading on different planets her entire life—everything she liked about him reminded her of Janieel. She had gone to Halling, her closest relationship now, and had confessed her confused feelings.

Halling had advised that she carefully consider her feelings for John and to be certain the she had more than friendly feelings because of _who_he was, not who he reminded her of. She had carefully considered this advice, meditated on it, and had come to the conclusion that her feelings for John were genuine.

She had no idea what to do about them, though, and was unsure if John returned the feelings.

"You've been quiet," John said, breaking into her thoughts. He was crouched in front of the small fire he'd lit, a small pile of wood stacked neatly on the far side of the cavern. The light flickered off the walls and shadows danced across his face.

She wished they had better light—she loved to look at him—but had to admit John looked particularly handsome in firelight.

"I simply have nothing to say," Teyla said. "We do not need more wood?"

John shrugged and settled onto the ground, next to where she was sitting, and leaned back against the wall. "We've got enough for tonight and tomorrow, and hopefully the storm will break after that."

The storm had come up unexpectedly just as they were reaching the halfway point of their journey back to the gate. Within seconds both of them were drenched and shivering in their soaked clothes. Teyla had remembered a cave within a mile of their location, even though it added seven miles to the distance back to the gate.

Teyla had known, as had John—he'd sent her a rueful look when she suggested it—that it was their best option.

However, they hadn't been completely prepared for an overnight trip. While they both had extra food and a change of clothes, they lacked anything for overnight other than one sleeping bag—which John admitted he'd packed on a whim.

"I'm certain that it will," Teyla said, and John gave her a quick grin.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor," he said cheerfully. He looked at her for a long moment, eyes dark and intense, and Teyla kept her eyes on his and her breathing even as the silence stretched—she would not let him know how much she was currently affected by him.

"We should eat," Teyla said finally, looking toward the gear they'd placed in the far corner next to the firewood.

"Yeah," John said. He stood up and dug through the gear, pulling out the two MREs they'd brought with them. "Here's yours."

Teyla accepted the MRE with a nod of thanks, and John sat next to her, opening his own. They didn't heat them—Teyla found them only slightly appetizing either hot or cold—because they couldn't spare the water.

It was silent in the cavern for a few minutes as they ate; Teyla not feeling any need to speak, John apparently enjoying his meal as he ate it extremely fast and then stood and paced the cavern, hunched over slightly due to the height of the ceiling, staring at the ground.

"What is it that you're looking for, John?" Teyla asked finally, setting down her own half-eaten meal after he'd been pacing and muttering to himself for about five minutes.

"Nothing," John said, and she raised an eyebrow at him. He wilted, slightly, and muttered, "Trying to find the flattest spot to set up our sleeping area."

He had turned away slightly while he answered, and Teyla frowned. John wasn't in the habit of looking away from people when he talked—unless the conversation made him uncomfortable. And if he was talking about where they'd be sleeping, sharing the same sleeping bag, than Teyla could only assume he was uncomfortable sleeping next to her.

Was that because he didn't want to, or because he did?

"That area looks fine," Teyla said, pointing to the section of the cavern they had placed their equipment in. "Isn't that why we set the equipment there?"

"Right," John said, and pulled out the sleeping bag. "We should probably go to sleep, get an early start in the morning."

"Fine," Teyla said. She placed her barely eaten MRE in the bag they'd used as a trash bin and joined John near the pile of equipment.

The easiest way for them to share the sleeping bag was to simply _share_it, both of them in it at the same time. It was certainly large enough, Teyla mused as she helped John unroll it and place it on the floor, close to the fire but not so close they would get too warm. Though actually sharing it, rather than switching while the other was on watch, would also be the most upsetting on her equilibrium.

There would be no watch tonight—they were on a friendly planet and the storm outside made it impossible for anyone to get through the growing mud and debris outside the cave—so they wouldn't even be switching when the watch changed.

"Well, I'm tired," Teyla said, and sat down to take off her boots. "Would it be easier for you or me to climb in first?"

Teyla looked up when he didn't say anything, and smiled to herself. She'd taken her socks off and he was staring at her feet, eyes glued to her toes. During an evening tea with Katie Brown she'd accepted the other woman's offer to paint her toes, and Katie had picked a bright red. She'd claimed—with a wink at Teyla that she had to admit had made her blush slightly—that it was irresistible to men.

From the way John was staring at her feet, Katie was right, Teyla thought. She'd have to remember to tell her.

"John?" She said again, and he jumped, then flushed.

"What? I'll go first," John said, and Teyla noted with amusement he was now staring at the wall above her head.

Teyla stayed where she was and watched John as he took off his own boots and climbed into the sleeping bag, which he'd unzipped on the side. Teyla waited until he was situated.

John was on his side, facing her—she knew that although the sleeping bags were larger than a single they were not quite large enough for two—and she would have to squeeze in next to him until he was basically holding her in front of him.

She slid in, turned onto her side, facing away from John, and jumped, startled, when a warm hand settled on her hip.

"Sorry," he said, sounding nervous, and he pulled his hand back. Teyla missed the warmth but didn't quite know how to get it back.

Stick with practicalities, she decided, and shook her head slightly.

"It isn't a problem," Teyla said. "There's not that much space in here, and the fire is dying. We would not want to be too cold."

She was certain John saw right through her reasoning—he wasn't stupid but had not seemed aware of her admittedly romantic feelings for him—but he didn't say anything. He just placed his hand back on her hip and pulled her closer against him, until every inch of their bodies was touching.

"Don't want to get cold," he agreed.


End file.
